Now, it's all that is left here.

Agatha slowly withdrew her gaze from the lantern, and she turned, leaving Archon Winston in the cold, calm darkness, and strode towards the "branches" that crisscrossed the endless space, to the giant curtain of thorns like the dome of heaven and earth.

She had a not-so-bright lantern hanging from her waist, and in her right hand she held the cane that had been with her for so many years in her memory, and in her left hand she still clutched the brass key from Winston—the key was no longer cold, but had a heat like body temperature, as if it were ...... It's gradually merging with his own body.

But Agatha no longer cared about what had happened to her body.

She just walked in the darkness, feeling that the body was really moving forward, and as long as the chaos around her had not completely engulfed and assimilated herself, she still had to move forward.

She searched for a place to settle in the void, and with every step she took, path-like ground appeared in the darkness, and she searched for a way out among the thorns, and between the criss-crossed branches, there were often narrow holes to pass through.

Sharp "thorns" soon cut through her clothes, the dense "fabric" as fragile as loose ash and mist in the face of the old god's mind spikes, falling shards condensed into wriggling black droplets in the darkness and melted into the path beneath her feet, and she occasionally touched the sparks that leaped between the thorns—she could almost visibly feel something burrowing into her mind when she touched those flashes.

It was the mind of the Old God, the murmur of the Dark Lord—there was no malice, not even a complete intent, but to a weak mortal, the shortest spark of thought was also dazzling, like a brilliant candle in the dark night.

Another faint flash of light flew from afar, gliding along the dark thorn branches, and a strand of Agatha's hair met the flash, and in a hundredth of a second, a new "knowledge" appeared in her mind

Agatha couldn't comprehend the message of the sparks to herself—as Winston told herself, not to try to speculate on the thoughts of the Old Gods.

It's going to be crazy.

She looked up.

A vast structure bridging dead wood and thorns overshadowed the vision, dense faint flashes of light fluttered like fireflies in the thorn bushes, and a thin layer of fog shrouded the outside of the thorn barrier, and in the depths of the mist, the huge limbs of the Dark Lord were swaying slightly—as if an invitation.

It was cold again—and it was a more definite, biting cold than before, cold with dampness, as if it were about to freeze all the bones into the body.

Agatha subconsciously tightened the clothes on her chest, but found that her clothes were in tatters at some point, and the thorns along the way had left countless wounds on her skin.

In the wound, the dirty, black, viscous substance slowly wriggled like blood.

But just when she thought the cold would consume her completely, a faint but warm heat came from her chest again......

A small green flame burned silently in Agatha's chest, a faint green light illuminating her face and the cold, damp sewers around her.

All the feelings seemed to be gone, or separated from one's own reason by a thick veil, and the temperature in the veins seemed to have subsided with the passage of time, along with the exhaustion and pain accumulated along the way.

Agatha shook her head slowly, trying to dispel the numbness that had taken over her mind, and just as her vision flickered, she suddenly saw a strange sight out of the corner of her eye.

She saw that the dim and closed sewer corridor in front of her seemed to suddenly become larger, and a layer of mist floated in the hazy space, and something like a tree branch or a thorn bush appeared in the mist, slowly spreading towards her.

However, in the next second, the hallucinatory sight vanished, and her eyes were still only dark and dreary corridors.

and a gate at the end of the hallway.

Puff ...... Puff ......

The moment she looked at the gate, Agatha's ears sounded

There was an illusory heartbeat from the Buddha, as if a huge heart was hiding across the door, beating and growing in the darkness.

Agatha's already sluggish and numb spirit suddenly perked up, and her eyes instantly focused on the door.

"Ah····· I've found you·····

She gathered the flame in her palm and stepped into the darkness, the almost broken combat staff supporting her for the last time, her steps getting faster and faster, even gradually bringing the sound of the wind, she walked towards the darkness, and left the darkness behind her, and the low and terrible heartbeat gradually beat like a heavy drum beat in her heart, and even in her mind.

Gradually, she heard something else in the heartbeat, as if thousands of people were praying, chanting, calling to some dark and indescribable being.

She didn't care about the noise in the mixed sounds—she was about to send the fire, and the heretics' lair was in the deepest part of the way.

The sound of canes and heels tapping on the ground sounded in a dense manner.

And just then, Agatha suddenly heard something else—not her own footsteps, not the heartbeat from the depths of the hallway, or the prayers of the crowd gathered together.

It was the sound of other footsteps, a large group of people, and the dense footsteps sounded like they were coming from another direction, close to the corridor in front of them, but separated by a wall or two.

There was the sound of gunfire in the footsteps, it was a large-caliber rifle.

Someone else? Living? Anyone else who is acting with them in this mirrored city?!

A question crossed Agatha's mind, but it didn't stop her in the slightest—she almost instantly crossed the last stretch of the road in front of the gates, and came to the gate where the sound of her heart was constantly beating.

The door opened slightly, and there was a crack in the gap, which was so thick that it could not be dissolved, and the darkness was like substance, escaping and flowing outward little by little.

But that's exactly what Agatha was looking for. She pressed her shoulders against the heavy door, pushing it open with all her might.

With a creaky sound, the door opened. A vast darkness appeared before Agatha's eyes—a kind of infinite "shadow" that enveloped the normally normal space, leaving her with nothing but darkness in front of her.

She could only barely make out that there seemed to be a *** hall in the darkness, and the widest intersection in the sewers had been transformed into a sacrificial place for sacrifices and the birth of the ancient gods, and countless shadowy invisible things were wriggling in the darkness, malice like a foul stench, rushing to the face.

Then, before she could react, she heard a swift cracking of the air in the darkness nearby, and something was coming at her, and a familiar and disgusting voice rang out in the distant sacrificial ground—with a hint of banter and mockery: "Ah, the last sacrifice has finally arrived—nice, and the other one you have just arrived in the place you were supposed to be."

"Bang!"

The staff swung out, bursting into the darkness with short, shining sparks, and a monstrous limb was broken in the air and fell at Agatha's feet, barely on her feet from the impact - and after barely regaining her balance, she immediately looked up in the direction from which the voice had come from.

I could only barely see a tall and thin figure of a young man standing at the end of the darkness.

He spread his hands to this direction.

"Come, Sacrifice, your arrival is part of the plan—now, the time has come to build a passage."

Agatha supported herself with her cane, slowly raising her head in weakness and dizziness: "You are killing yourselves......

"Yes, we're all going to die here, but that's okay, as soon as you step here, the ritual is a success - I'll admit, it's a trap."

A thud of gunfire tore through the darkness of the hallway with an explosion, and a powerful warhead shot a twisted monster with three eyes into the head, and the mutated and hideous body fell to the ground, quickly melting, disintegrating, and turning into a disgusting black mud.

However, more monster roars continued to sound from all sides, and more deformed and twisted things were springing up in a steady stream

Come out – from the walls around you, in the pipes, in the gutters, and even through the cracks in the dome.

The mud-like substance seeped out and flowed out of almost any visible crevice, turning into countless human-like monsters.

"I don't think we have enough bullets!"

One of the sailors shouted loudly as he quickly reloaded his rifle, raised his gun, and fired, his shout sounding hoarse and dull with the crackling of ghostly flames.

Lawrence didn't have time to answer the sailor's shouts—the swift wind came from the back of his head, and he only had time to turn slightly to avoid the fatal blow, and then he grabbed it back at the beck of his instinct.

A humanoid monster dressed in a decades-old city-state guard uniform and holding a saber in his hand was dragged from behind and slammed to the floor.

Lawrence stepped forward and stomped heavily on the chest of the fake freak, and the ghostly flames on his body rose in an instant, spreading and burning the inhuman monster into a pile of ashes almost instantly.

In the next second, Lawrence, who was covered in ghostly flames, raised his head and looked at the corridor in front of him, which seemed to never end.

Everywhere you look, it's all blasphemous and deformed.